Never Let Them Go
by Sempronia
Summary: A Vampire Diaries-esque take on Elijah's past loves and how a girl would deal with trying to live up to their stories. Kind of dark-fluffy. Based on the premise that Elijah had found someone before arriving in Mystic Falls. Reviews/suggestions welcomed.
1. Prologue: Tatia

Elijah.

How many times have I thought about the small, brunette girl that had his admiration over a thousand years ago. Tatia. Who died for his family, her blood spilled and mixed with wine that he and his brothers and sister would drink without knowing what it contained. The young woman, who in another time had given birth to another man's child, yet still held the eyes of a small viking village despite her past.

She must have been spectacular.

Perhaps it was different then, when he was so much younger, into only his first lifetime. Maybe he was more given to cherishing beauty than substance; but I don't think so. Elijah is Elijah, in any age. She must have been smart, charming. Judging from the doppelganger, she would have had delicate hands, a bright smile.

What would she sound like if she spoke Russian? That must have been her mother tongue, with a name like Tatia. A fierce language, but commanding. I bet she was brave, until the very last moment. Living amidst werewolves. Native Americans in a new world. Guarding her child as the one thing that, having marked her as unmaidenly, might have brought out a caring, empathetic nature.

Katerina was always a fighter, at least from what Elijah tells me. That quality, among others, had drawn him to her. Before she was a vampire, that is. Their conversations of love, lazy afternoons of running through the grounds of Klaus' estate. It must have been enchanting. Courtly, politely intellectual and yet delicately stirring. Just like him.

So many years have passed between that time and now-centuries of moving from country to country; of dealing with thousands of humans, living out changes in their societies, advances in culture. Two doppelgangers, one a vampire whom he used to love. One a teenager living a recreation, almost, of his and Klaus' feud over Tatia. I wonder if she realizes how close it all comes to those days in Dark Ages Virginia. One dark brother, one light. Who the better is. Who the more worthy.

Elena. She must know how the lives of her predecessors ended. One by a knife in Esther's hand, another by a rope at her own. Katerina's story hasn't ended yet. Will hers, ever? I've seen the way Elijah looks at her, how his eyes see in her what he found in her ancestors. That light. Love for those she cares about. Persistance. Strength.

Do I have any of these things in my own character? Is it possible, really, to live up to two dead women, locked firmly as they are in the mind's eye as faded and perfect? Or a living one, who stands apart with her uncommon devotion to those she loves.

Sometimes, when I look out the window, and imagine Elijah in Mystic Falls, wearing out his loyalty to his family in the culmination of an age-old grudge, I'm acutely aware of the history that preceeds me. How heavy a thousands years' memories weigh on a person that hasn't experienced them, let alone on one who has.

What can you provide to a vampire that has seen everything? How silly a human with only two decades of life under her belt must seem to an Original. What little wisdom resides there that a thousand years hasn't already made clear?


	2. A Compelling Drink

Chapter One.

My dreams are indistinct, and I often wakeup in the morning, forgetting what I've dreamnt but soaking in the mood that that night's illusion left me with. It's a strange half-consciousness, where the happiness or fear of the night quietly seep out of your bones and into the bedsheets, where they stay. A bank of the unreal. The imagined.

When I first met Elijah, I was eighteen, and in my last year of high school. My favorite thing to do was to write in my journal, recording my thoughts about those dreams, or the injustices that can occur in classes and out of them, between my friends and I and the guys I wanted to be my boyfriend. I was never real successful with the last category...

I used to look at myself in the morning, taking stock of what I had to work with, my appearance, my good traits. Things I thought people liked about me. Things I hated about myself. Everything swirled around in my head, and I thought that if I could just find the right combination, that right balance, I would have the whole world open to me. But I was a safe I just couldn't unlock.

That's how it is for everyone, I guess, when you're in high school. No one ever understands, and you like to think you've pulled the wool over their eyes; you never do, though.

I lived my entire childhood and adolescence in a small, Maine town called Rosaline. Someone, during its founding, had thought it would be funny to name it after a Shakepearean character, particularly one that never mattered much. Obscure, like our town was.

Once a year, we had a huge festival that revolved around a staging of Romeo and Juliet, and it was always the biggest honor to get the part of Rosaline.

By all rights, you never should have seen her-she isn't shown once in the play-but the Founders included a small rewrite that added the wannabe nun to the party seen where Juliet first sees Romeo. Rosaline, as befits the only things we know about her, sits quietly, the picture of grace and faith, unattainability. In other words, a perfect example of what women were supposed to be in the late seventeen hundreds, when someone inserted that little addition.

It's ridiculous, but everyone waited for that curtain to pull aside, revealing the chosen girl for that year. Everyone of my friends since I was little wanted to be her. Almost everyone of them got to be.

I had the strange luck to be in the popular group at school, although everyone probably thought I was a hanger-on. The least noticable of the un-disguisable. The most studious of the least intellectual. My oldest friend was Rayanne, a curvy red head that had crushes on half the school, and whose most pressing concern was what she should wear that day. But she was fearless, and loved everybody she met.

Then there was Therese. She was born in the Islands, and moved here when she was about two. The only word to describe her was independent. Fiercely self-confident and with some of the most gorgeous straight black hair I'd ever seen, she was everything I wanted to be, and never in my opinion managed to become.

So when Therese got sick the day before the all-important performance, and Rayanne volunteered me as her replacement, I was too dumbfounded to say no. I found myself standing in the drama department of our school, being pinned into Therese's late-Colonial gown by the town tailor. I didn't really understand what had made Rayanne offer me up as the yearly sacrifice-then again, she did sort of relish the speaking roles: she was the nurse in the play that year.

Since Therese was a little bigger than I was, Susan was having trouble fitting the dress, and kept tugging the sleeve over my knuckles to make it drape the same way it would have on my friend. By the end of my session, she had stuck me at least five times in various places with her pins. I was sore, bodily and emotionally.

Rayanne picked me up that afternoon, still dressed as Juliet's boisterous servant, and drove us to the local tea house. We'd made a thing out of drinking tea the past year or so. It was old-timey, and atmospheric, and best of all, the tea came in one of a dozen or so iron pots decorated with patterns and flowers. Ray and I wanted to get a pot, and take some back for Therese so that she could convalesce in comfort.

The Darjeeling was located far up one of the older streets in town, a huge red-brick building that once was an orphanage. Large, antique wooden doors opened and closed with brass door knobs, and locked with latches instead of keys. To use the bathroom, you had to wind your way down a hall to what was once a closet, and pull a curtain for privacy. It was great.

Our regular table was occupied, and we stood for a while, waiting for the couple ensconced there to finish their tea and leave. Although there were seats at the long bar, we were too attached to our spot to let it go, and simply stood near the brass and wood counter bobbing on our heels. We ordered, and a short time later shuffled through the crowded room to our vacated seats.

From there, we could watch whoever came into the House, along with where they sat. I can't ever help myself from people-watching, and Ray was an avid indulger of my silent intrusion into our people's days. Pouring our tea, I let my eyes rest on a man sitting at the bar, speaking to someone beside him. He was dressed in a dark suit, with exquisitely shined shoes perched on the foot bar beneath their stools. The blond man next to him seemed to laugh a lot, while the first simply drank out of a small tea cup.

My hand was hurting me-the result of Susan's five pin-stabs, one of which had gone pretty deep. I let the gouged pad of my hand sit on the tea pot, letting the warmth drain the soreness out. Unhappily, when I finally pulled my hand away, I could see that I had left the tiniest smear of blood on the polished surface.

With a sigh, I licked the spot on my hand, and took a drink of my tea. Ray was busying herself with staring at the blond beside Shiny Shoes, making eyes at yet another conquest. I rolled mine, used to the years and years of high-spirited flirting that she could get up to. The Blond stared back, quirking a mischievious smile at my friend.

His lips had an odd quirk to them, as if he was almost snarling, or laughing perhaps, at whatever you found amusing. Soon, his conversation partner set his cup down with an audible click, and cocked his head in our direction, choosing to be more surrepticious in his observation. I wonder if they realized that the buxom girl that had caught Blond's eye was probably ten years their junior.

As I asked the waitress for a travel mug for Therese's tea, Ray smiled lazily up at her mark, who took a final swig of the beer his was drinking, and sauntered over, giving his friend a slap on the shoulder as he left. The dark-haired man only raised an eyebrow, unfazed.

"Hi," Rayanne stayed as coy as possible, bearing her brightest smile. Her copper-red curls shook, her cheeks turning rosy from the attention. "Hello, there." The man said, betraying a bit of an accent. English, I thought, though I had a hard time telling British and Australian apart.

"What are you lovely ladies doing here on a school day?"

So he did know. Okay. A little creepy, though, that he was still pursuing this, although notunexpected. Ray had the curves of a twenty-something, and the tight-fitting outfit she was wearing corseted her chest up to twice its usual, ample size. She offered her hand for him, a move I had seen countless times. It really bowled some guys over.

Unusually, the Blond didn't miss a beat, and shake it like other guys do when introduced. He kissed it, catching it gracefully and bringing to his lips as he bowed. "Class let out two hours ago," she informed him, beaming.

"Lucky for me," Blond said. "My name's Nik. Are you and your friend staying long?" He nodded at me, an afterthought.

Ray gave a small giggle. "I'm Ray. This is Noor. We were actually just leaving..." She indicated the container of tea I held up.

"Our friend's waiting for us." I don't know what made me say it like I did, so pointed. My inflection was unfriendly and hurried. I realized I didn't like how Nik was looking at my friend at all. Like she was something to be devoured. "We should get going," I added to Ray.

She wavered. "Oh, come on!" Our new aquaintance said, throwing an arm back to his friend at the counter. "My brother and I were just getting started on our own pot, you should join us. Elijah! Tell these lovely young women to make our day a little bit better with their presence."

I notived he didn't look away from Ray once. His brother-how unalike they looked, I thought-finally turned around and stepped away from his stool. Coming to his brother's side, he smiled swiftly and glanced from Rayanne to myself. "Of course," he answered in a voice smoother, softer in tone than Nik's.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." He offered his hand, and to my indignation shook Ray's, only to kiss mine when I reluctantly offered it. At the last moment, he flipped my hand, placing his lips on my palm. A move I remembered reading Casanova used on his women. It felt like the moment lingered, despite the cliche. His mouth was cool, and provided a surprising relief almost like the warmth of the teapot had.

"Eleanor." I said, shortly. He rose from his bow, and widened his eyes in careful attention. "My name's...Noor...is short for Eleanor."

I don't know whether I wanted to be off-puttingly formal, or just introduce myself correctly. He ignored my strangeness, and nodded, smiling slightly.

"See? Perfect!" Nik praised. "Elijah has met Eleanor. And I have met this ray of light, and now we can have a proper tea-time!" He began to usher us to his seat at the bar at the same time gesturing for a new table for the four of us. I stalled.

"I don't think I can-Therese is waiting for us. I should go and see how she is. She wasn't feeling as good today, I think." I looked at Ray, trying to plead with my eyes, _Just leave this guy._

She already had a hand resting on Nik's arm. "Oh Therese will be fine! She's probably sleeping now, anyways." She smiled a little guiltily. "Come on, another round won't hurt." The arm went around her shoulders.

How many times had I seen this chain of events play out with Ray and some guy? Too many times, and with some real sketchy men. But for some reason, this time, it was different. More important to get her away, and not just let her make her mistakes. As Nik led her to the fresh table, and Elijah looked back to see if I would follow, I knew that it was a losing battle. She'd have her tea with this guy, and that would be it. Hopefully.

I needed to leave, though. No matter how soothing the brother was compared to his sibling...I watched his face fall, minutely, as I backed off and almost into another set of chairs. "Sorry," I murmured apologetically. To him, to the chairs.

"Ah. That's quite alright," he said. "A friend needs to be taken care of." He swept a hand at the tea I was holding onto for dear life. "Best get there while it's still hot. Re-warmed tea is very unsatisfactory." Against my better judgement, I smiled.

Yet his line about a 'friend needing taken care of' hit me someplace I didn't quite recognize. As I murmured an unconvincing "Nice to meet you, see you" to the two men and my friend, I saw Elijah pull out Rayanne's seat, and Nik watch as she sat down, his eyes drinking in her movement. I realized, walking out of the tea house, that what that phrase made me feel was guilty. For leaving one friend to see another-but mostly leaving one friend to spare myself.

What was so wrong there, though? So unsettling? Was it Rayanne's automatic trust of some guy she just met, or my own sense of relief when touched by another? I concluded, when seated with Therese on her couch, tea delivered, that it wasn't just unsettling, what I had felt. It was fear.


	3. Rehersal from Hell

Rosaline was founded in 1787. Accordingly, over the years, the performance of Romeo and Juliet had been shifted to take place in that era-a little nod to the ancestors. Now when you think 1700s, you may think Marie Antoinette, and those huge, box-like skirts that people had to turn sideways in to get through doors. But in a town as drenched in history as ours was, you grew up knowing differently.

Romeo and Juliet was not only a play; it was a spectacle. A night for Rosaline to assert its place in history and in the tourist pamphlets so thickly strewn about every rest stop in New England. That meant accuracy. Historical accuracy and a good theatrical display that could draw bored travellers for miles around.

For a play that the Founders had originally messed with to suit their town-naming needs, Shakespeare's most popular project was taken very seriously.

The morning of the play, I sat in the kitchen, dead to the world and hating the fact that I had been roped into this. My cereal sat in front of me, and I poked at it with the spoon. I never really liked eating cold things before the sun rose and this time it was especially unappetizing.

After seeing Therese the day before, I had come home to spend my last hour alone before my mother got back from work. I had sat in just the same position, unable to write anything coherent in my journal, running through my thoughts time and again to try to find what about that afternoon had felt so wrong. I was scared, I knew. For Rayanne. For me, a bit too, but not in the same way.

Something about how Nik had watched Ray before coming over to us...the way his mouth twitched into that strange smirk when she smiled at him. It was skeevy, sure. It was more than that, too. It reminded me of a time I had seen an old dog of mine go after a rabbit.

Intent. Amused. Predatory.

Ray had had her share of weird guys, including some that obviously had no honorable intentions. She usually came out of it a little sad, maybe shaken up, but there was never a way to persuade her to act otherwise before it came to that. She followed her heart...or whatever it was, I liked to think it was her imagination...until reality caught up to her.

I was the exact opposite. Where my heart went, I was a million miles behind, staring at whatever it was I wanted from a safe distance. My first love had been a boy I'd grown up next door to, who was a few years older than me. We talked occasionally, and passed each other at the bus stop. He'd play around with me like the extra sibling he saw me as, and I dreamed safely behind my closed bedroom door at night. Writing down my dreams about us, and the small exchanges we'd shared in the past day or so. I lived on those sentences that he said to me, the short hellos that we called to each other when nearby.

I knew a lot about waiting. Going after something meant risk, and even scarier, it meant betraying a little bit of yourself-showing what you were really like. And I was pretty sure I was sub-par.

I was the little girl next door, who watched people with her tilted gray eyes, and kept her head down when strangers looked her way. The history buff with a book propped in front of her at all times rather than the newest _Cosmo _or _People_.

You wouldn't take a second look at me. Which was why I was always so grateful about my friends, about the people that actually took the time to know me. The ones that spent time with me, and didn't make fun of the fact that I was eighteen and still had never had a boyfriend. The girls that had seen me through dead pets and my parents' divorce. I owed them so much, and I loved them all fiercely.

It worried me that I had left Ray high and dry. It bothered me even more that it wasn't the only thing I was preoccupied with. Nik's brother-the one that had kissed my palm as if it were the most natural thing in the world-stayed in the back of my head all night and the next morning, his cool lips lingering over my now-healed skin. No one had touched me so intimately, before...I supposed that made me extra prone to analyzing something so simple.

No. It wasn't the manner he had, the easy elegance that was laced into every word he said, the small gestures he and his brother peppered their actions with. He'd had a slight accent. Not quite English, not quite American. Not quite anything, if I thought about it. Different from Nik.

His eyes had been dark, intelligent in a way that echoed his brother's, but without the overt malice.

The bowl of cereal remained uneaten when I went over the livingroom in a cursory check for anything I might have forgotten. Rayanne or Therese usually picked me up, but as the latter was clearly out of commission, and the former was a no-show, I settled for the shitty bus ride that awaited me.

Only I didn't have to wait for the bus to arrive...Ray was already there, proudly arranged in the passenger seat of a huge blue SUV driven by Nik. I had never been more unhappy to see her in my entire life.

"Uh...thanks for the ride. I would have been fine with the bus; you didn't have to-"

"Oh nonsense," Nik said, leering at Ray and I from the driver's side window. "It was my pleasure to drop you girls off today. I was on my way into town anyway. A little business to attend to." Ray giggled, twirling her finger in the silk scarf she wore around her neck today. I gazed at her numbly as her newest man friend pulled away.

"What the hell was that?"

"Hm?" She asked. "What? You mean Nik? You heard him, he was on his way into town. He did me a favor." She laughed again. "I knew you would be horrified."

Yeah, tell me about it, I thought.

That day in Government, I passed her a note, something that usually irritated me to no end when other people did it. But I couldn't wait for study hall, or our lunch period to roll around. I had to know now what all had happened with my friend and our new aquaintance.

She unfolded the paper, spreading it on her notebook. When the teacher turned back to the board next, she wrote her answer and slipped it to me over her shoulder.

I'd written in my frantic cursive, _What happened?_

Beneath it, she's responded, in tight, tiny letters: _What didn't?_

No surprise there. _He was nice about it, right? _I asked, giving the note back.

_The perfect gentleman, _she wrote.

_Present? _I wanted to know, and drew a cartoon of a scarf next to my question.

_From Bulgaria. _

Well that seemed a little far-fetched. But it wouldn't be the first time a man had exaggerated the facts to impress a girl. I stopped there, and turned my attention to the diagram of NGOs on the board. As long as he didn't hurt her.

...what kind of business did he have to 'attend to', though? What a stupid, enigmatic phrase to use. With Ray's luck he was a crack dealer. A scarf from Bulgaria, too. How random. What an idiot, I thought. A charming idiot, I had to admit, though. He'd obviously used these tactics before. I wondered how many girls had fallen for them.

Maybe he and his brother just wandered around, picking up underage girls and doing some sort of shady business on the side. Elijah...that had been his name, right? His suit had definitely been expensive. Nik didn't seem to care too much about appearances. He dressed fairly ordinary.

Whatever. It probably wasn't worth thinking about.

Rehersal that afternoon was actually pretty fun, more so than I had expected it to be. I didn't have anything to do other than sit and look pretty in the background while the rest of the actors milled around on stage, running their lines and learning where they had to stand. It was fairly relaxing, and enjoyable to see the work that went on behind the scenes of the two hundred year old tradition.

Rayanne came out on her cue, her hands clasped under her chest, responding saucily to all of Mrs Capulet's promptings about the lovely Juliet. At length, the fourteen year old lovebird came in, offering her opinions on marriage to the young Paris. A girl named Heather was in the role this year, and was having some trouble not being pompous about it.

Soon, the exchange ended, and Ray wrapped up the Scene with my one of my favorite lines, "Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days."

A loud clapping distracted the Capulets from their Exeunt, and, from my place backstage, I could see that it was Nik who was being so enthusiastic. He walked down the aisle, trailed by his darker brother, who chose a seat in the audience as if the interruption was too boring to pay further attention to. He crossed one leg over the other, and watched, a hand gently propped beneath his jaw.

Nik threw up his hands as he reached the stage. "Bravo!" Ray beamed, and sidled to the edge near the lights. Despite her obvious pleasure at seeing Nik again, she seemed a bit put-off by his sudden appearance.

"Nik!" She said, still relishing being on stage, "What are you doing here? The performance isn't until tonight."

"Oh, I know. I wanted to see you in all your glory, but couldn't wait that long. I also wanted to see the fair Rosaline. I'm sponsoring the production, after all: I want to know that the right woman has the part." He craned his neck to see into the wings at either end of the stage.

Ray was overjoyed at his interest. "You're _sponsoring_? Wow. Wait, Nor! Nor is Rosaline this year! She's been doing great." I saw Nik smile, a hand at my friend's waist. "Nor!"

As a member of the crew came forward to see what our guests had held up the show for, I stepped from behind the curtain. I felt the same urge of not wanting to be around Nik, to run and hide from the nakedness of his stare. I didn't like that he was touching Ray again, so possessive, even in this little encounter.

"Oh, my dear you are right," he said to Ray. "She does fill the role quite well." He nodded my way. "All eyes on you tonight, love."

I tried to smile at the compliment, however disingenuous it sounded. From the corner of my eye, I caught his brother moving closer to the conversation.

Ray giggled, I assumed from covert tickling that Nik had executed unabashedly under the eyes of our director, who was becoming irate the longer the rehearsal stalled. "You'll have to try pretty hard not to steal the light from our Juliet and Romeo as well," he remarked to Ray.

I averted my eyes. Who knew when the run-through would start up again? I made to walk off the stage by a set of side stairs, not eager to take my place in a show paid for by Nik, whoever, whatever he was. He must make enough money to give freely to shows such as this. It made sense, I thought. People with money contributed to theater...

"You do seem to be a very fair Rosaline," came a voice from the foot of the stairs. Nik's brother. He held out a hand to help me descend the stair while I gathered my full skirt so I could see my footing. Without thinking, I accepted.

I clasped his cold hand, the fingers as cool as his mouth had been, but not unpleasant. Together with his eyes, surveying me with a detached interest, they formed an unusually calming focus to my busy mind. "Thank you," I said.

"I'm going to get some water..." I released his hand and made my way up the aisle to the first set of double doors leading to the cafeteria. My slippered feet felt strange against the flat carpet, I was so used to walking there in tennis shoes. Not bothering to check if I was right, I felt him follow me into the deserted lunch room.

The water splashed against my pursed lips, numbing the heat that had risen in them as I fought the urge to run away from Nik. I liked the hum of the water fountain, and sometimes let it run longer than necessary to enjoy the soothing murmur of the mechanisms. Wasteful, but true. Realizing that I was being watched, I looked back at Elijah.

For lack of a better way to break the silence, I motioned to the nearest vending machine, filled with Coke, Sprite, and generic orange drink. "Care for a drink?" I asked.

I could tell he stopped a small smile at my awkward offer. "Thank you, no."

We walked through the doors we had just come out of, and I decided to sit not far off and watch the scene that was still playing out at the stage. Nik and Ray laughed, each enjoying the attention of the other, sometimes touching a shoulder, her waist, their hands. The quieter brother took a seat two over from mine.

"My brother has a habit of making...friends, a bit more quickly and intimately than most." He said. I couldn't stifle the ironic expression that overtook my face as I looked at him. He smiled, dropping his gaze in gentile defeat.

I looked at my friend, her arms around Nik's waist. "I suppose I could say the same about Ray."

He observed Rayanne, a hand at his lips. "She's a very cheerful girl."

"Yes. She is." I watched her with him, feeling oddly protective. This cool consideration of his echoed the odd gleam that I saw in Nik's eyes when they appraised someone. "I've known her my entire life," I told him. "I've never found a happier person."

He smiled slightly again, perhaps sensing my defensiveness. At that moment, something occurred to me that had been in the back of my mind since the previous day. "Do you and your brother work together often?"

The question caught him off guard. I was very off topic. "He said he's sponsoring the show," I clarified. "Are you a part of that as well?"

A nod. "Indeed. We've contributed money to this program for a number of years. Nik has always been very fond of Shakespeare."

"And you?" His face became pensive, as if he was remembering some incident in the past.

"I prefer his sonnets, usually. And the history plays. Doubtless you've studied them in your English courses?" A bored drone crept into his voice. He didn't expect an intelligent answer.

"I've always like _Henry VI_." This was true, no matter how nerdy it was. He seemed surprised.

"The War of the Roses," he observed. And then, after a pause he added, "Perhaps you also like Joan of Arc?" A blush came into my cheeks, as I recognized he had considered my personality enough to make the connection. Or maybe it was just because she was a female role and he assumed I would relate.

"That's a part of it. And the trouble over Margaret, too." The play was divided into three parts, and much of the second and third parts were concerned with Margaret of Anjou, a French princess who agreed to be used in a scheme by an Earl to dominate the young king through marriage.

Elijah contemplated me carefully. "Margaret was cause of much of the trouble herself," he said.

"That's what makes her interesting," I said, meeting his gaze. He had strong brows set below thick, styled hair; an angular jawline…not exactly hard to look at. I refocused my eyes on the stage, unsure about how my latest assessment of his looks made me feel.

I felt his attention return to his brother as well. "I quite agree."


	4. Not in Our Town

"Is Nik coming to the show, then, tonight?"

The old stable still smelled mildly of horses, and the soft wind that was blowing up outside crept in through thick cracks in the siding, wafting the comforting odor around the actors. Since the production was staged at an outdoor theater in Rosaline's only park, the decrepit building was being used as a dressing room. Ray dabbed at her make up, exaggerating the line of her eyes and nose.

Her red hair was tucked up into a turban-like scarf, a huge kerchief covering her breast for once. She looked the picture of a nursemaid. An unaging, bouncy nursemaid. "Course!" She said. "He's paying for it, isn't he?"

Ray turned to me and straightened the shawl draped over my chest. I was dressed much more modestly than Juliet and the rest, a model of perfect virtue with tight wrist-length sleeves and a long, thickly layered skirt. "He said he's excited to see how you do tonight." She laughed to herself. "You _do _look like a nun, don't you?"

"Ray...I just..." I didn't know what to say, or if anything even needed to be said. Just that Nik bothered me. His brother, too. "Is Nik alright? You know, like, nice? Not involved in anything...weird, right? I mean you just met him..." I shook my head. "I'm sorry. Forget it."

"No, don't." Her mouth turned down a bit at the corner, like she had to think about how she felt before answering. "I know it's been really sudden and I just really like him. He hasn't told me what he does, or anything like that, but I don't know...he seems to travel a lot. You know he's actually the younger brother? Elijah is older than him."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. He says he wouldn't know what to do without him. He just seems so stuffy to me though, you know? Whatever, he seems to like you well enough." Her eyebrow raised suggestively, as it always did when any male happened to walk in my direction. Ray was ever hopeful for me.

I laughed. "Maybe if I suddenly aged ten years and wore designer clothing." I left out how the thought of anything going on between us was both mortifying in its impossibility and scintillating in that someone had thought of it happening.

Inadvertently, as I bent down to the smudged mirror at my station and arranged my hair over my shoulders, my brain sent me an image of the two of us; I saw him studying me, not with a look of curiosity, but fondness, while I gazed impertinently in his direction. Even in my mind, we couldn't happen.

Snapping out of my pessimistic reverie, I noticed the tuft of burgundy splayed across my friend's throat. "Rayanne?"

"Yes?" She started to apply a dark shade of lipstick, so her mouth would be visible from the stage when she said her lines.

I poked her playfully. "Costume only!" And pinched at the scarf Nik had told her came from Bulgaria. She snapped back, slapping away my hand. "Hey!"

"I know you don't like him, but the least you could do if keep your hands off my stuff." Her eyes narrowed with the condescending speech.

"Woah-alright. I didn't mean anything by it. Really." I waited for her to cool off a minute before speaking again. "I don't think you can wear it on stage though, seriously." The production team bristles if somebody wears an earring that isn't era-appropriate...

"Well too bad for them," she huffed, meaning the director and stage crew. She usually didn't get so defensive about things like this. Ray loved being dressed up in costumes.

Was she really that offended by my skepticism about Nik? I tried another tactic. "Really, though. Unless you have a major hickey, they'll untie it before you get on stage. Just take it off now so you don't lose it." She slamed the lip color onto the makeshift dressing table, and began to walk away into the swarm of half-ready performers.

"Whatever, I'm gonna be called soon."

I could see her swishing her skirt angrily and pushing past a startled Romeo and Tybalt. "Ray, you don't even go on for two more scenes!" She ignored me. "Great."

* * *

><p>"I have seen the day<br>That I have worn a visor and could tell  
>A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear,<br>Such as would please: 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone..."

Capulet spoke a few more words and bade everyone dance, yelling at the servants to keep the fire down. Soon, Romeo and Juliet would cross paths and fall in love, all in one night. And I, Rosaline, sat alone off to the side, watching the ladies and gentlemen dance in steps it would be unseemly for a future novice to take.

As scripted, my countenance was pleasant, as if the only pleasure in life that I could ask for was to listen to the music of a party I could not join in. It wasn't unenjoyable to simply watch, though. I found myself lost in the romance of a whirlwind night in a hall two hundred years ago. There was Juliet, radiant as she was young, being seen by Romeo.

How simple it was: he met a girl. They danced. It was epic.

I watched along with the audience, rapt as Juliet was called away by her mother, and her nurse questioned by the lovestruck boy. She's a Capulet-there's no hope! Yet suddenly, we exit, and the two women are left alone...who is he? Juliet asks.

"...Romeo and a Montague; the only son of your great enemy."

"My only love sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late!.." Juliet laments, stricken by the revelation, but still too in love to stop now.

How funny, that Rosaline now watches from the side the rival that she would never know. Maybe Shakespeare's Rosaline would have been happy for Juliet-that she had discovered someone to give her heart to, just as her heart belonged already to God. If Rosaline was so pious, that was a given, probably.

Dropping off after a few feet, the back of the stage sank into the woody part of the park, a sparse but pretty enclave off center of town. My performance done for the night, I wandered off, thinking about how many times over the years that girls had played Rosaline. I wondered what happened to each of them. If they got married, or went to another city somewhere to find work, friends, family. If they were the popular ones in school, and that was why they were chosen. Or if they were like me, and just in the right place to fill in.

Something crunched. I stopped, automatically frozen. I could hear the play going on, and I thought I made out the friar conspiring with Romeo. Then, faintly, I began to make out something else, and although I brushed it off at first, it became much clearer.

There was more crunching...twigs breaking under feet...and someone crying. Instinctively, I stepped toward the sound, a low keaning. A whining, almost. It sounded like someone had hurt themselves. I imagined a little girl had wandered away from the crowd and gotten lost in the darkness of evening. She'd fallen, most likely. Over a tree root or-

It stopped. Footsteps came my way, and I backed up, nearly falling into the stage platform where it jutted into the trees. I was paranoid, I decided. It had probably been a rabbit, caught by a hawk. They always made that awful sound that squeezed my heart like a vice. I had cried a number off times over dead wild animals, even though hunting was a pretty normal thing in Maine, and I was supposedly not a toddler anymore.

We all have our weaknesses. The audience burst into a small round of applause, possibly at Mercutio's demise-one of Rosaline High's best actors was in the role-and I took up my place beside the curtain, watching what remained of the last Act. Finally, the Chorus came out again, and it was "a tale of woe than Juliet and Romeo" and The End, and the cast returned to the stage for a last bow. As the town's namesake, I got a much undeserved extra ovation.

As I took my bow, unable to help a smile at so many pleased spectators, I caught a dark figure in the right of the fold-out seats. Elijah, clad as usual in a dusky suit that blended well into the night. I might have been mistaken, but when he caught my gaze, he raised his clapping hands, nodded.

I ducked my head, embarassed at staring, and took my place hand in hand with the rest of the actors, and, bowing once again, glanced quickly around to see if I could find Ray to congratulate her. She wasn't there. Nik hadn't been beside his brother, though, so she was probably with him. We stepped off the stage and started to mingle with the crowd, laughing and shaking hands. Fathers slapped their sons' backs, daughters were hugged, students were commended for their participation in such a wonderful town tradition. There'd be an after party at the town hall later.

"Have you seen Ray?" I spun around to see our director, a woman named Leslie Ford, smiling cautiously down at me. She was a tall, friendly woman with white hair. She looked over my head while I paused. "I was trying to find her to tell her what a great job she did tonight! Was that her first time acting?"

"Um...yeah, it was. I haven't seen her, though. Was she in the last call?"

Leslie was distracted, waving to someone behind me. "Oh, uh, I don't think so." She frowned. "It's a shame, she did so well. But she went off with that boyfriend of hers...I'll have to talk to him...it's not quite appropriate to date a student..."

My heart stopped. "She's with Nik?" I felt like every moment they spent together was another chance for her to get more alienated from me, from Therese. Wasn't that a sign of abuse? "Did you see where they went?" I chided myself for such a stupid question-onviously she hadn't, or she wouldn't have asked me.

She shook her head. "Nope. Just got into that car of his and drove off. You'll excuse me? Hi, Suzanna!" Leslie went off in pursuit of one of the extras, probably to tell her how great she'd done.

"Suzanna, what happened?" I heard crying behind me. The sound of a wounded animal. For a second, I thought someone had brought in the dying rabbit I had heard earlier in the woods. I couldn't believe someone would be so dim; but when I found the rush of people around Party Guest 2, I knew I was just indulging in wishful thinking when I told myself it had been a rabbit.

It was Suzanna that was dying. People backed off as Leslie half dragged, half walked the weeping blonde out of the theater. Someone called for a medic, and our director tried to pry Suzanna's hands off of her neck, where blood seemed to be gushing. Her breath rattled as she tried to calm down enough to speak. "I don't know...I was just backstage." Leslie held her tightly, still working against my classmate's bloody hands.

"Suzanna. Let me see." Her hands fell away, a new round of tears racking her body with terrified sobs. Those of us that had crowded in to form a protective barrier around Suzanna couldn't restrain disgusted gasps.

Someone groaned, "Oh man."

She gave an ugly sniff. "I think it was an animal..."

At the base of her long, white neck, two obvious puncture wounds poured blood onto her dress. The blood soaked through the thin fabric, once a robin's egg blue, and turned into a puddle at her collarbone.

Maybe I was paranoid. But at that moment I ran out of the park, certain that I knew what had done that damage, whether it was possible or not. Real or not real. Maybe I was dreaming. But every negative feeling I'd had for the past two days welled up inside of me, and as if my heart was struggling to get out of my body through my chest, I yelled to Ray, wherever she was.

Because I knew that Nik had done that to Suzanna. Was going to do it to _her_. And I had to find her before it was too late.


	5. Only Human

My car was at my house-a Georgian at the outskirts of town-so was nowhere in my reach, especially by walking. I was at a loss what to do about the situation, when I realized I knew someone else there that night that could help me: Henry.

Although he was a junior at the University of Farmington, he'd come back for the play to see his little sister and some of his friends. If I made it an emergency, and managed to not blurt out any of my latent school-girl crush feelings onto him, he just might give me his car. Loving somebody all through your childhood had some perks-they came to mind in all sorts of situations.

He wasn't hard to spot. Taller than me, dark curling hair, and tan skin, Henry stood out against the pasty-white highschoolers that gathered around him. His sister and her friends were peppering him with questions about college and any possible eligible friends of his when I made my attempt. We hadn't seen each other for awhile, but he lit up a fraction when he saw me close in. This might be extra good. I was an escape route.

"Nor!" He smiled and nudged his way out of the gaggle of freshmen and met me. At another point in time, I would have lost my breath from just his paying attention to me. Yet tonight getting him to like me was far from my thoughts. He could tell I was upset. "You okay?"

Knowing I would lose my nerve if I delayed, I launched into the most spectacular, strange lie of my life. "I am so sorry-I know you just got home and we haven't really seen each other for awhile, but I think my friend's in trouble and yours is the only car I can think of."

"What?" He led me over to a stone bench at the edge of the park, identical to the one Suzanna had been taken to earlier to wait for the ambulance. His ice-blue eyes peered down at me like I was crazy. "What's going on? Is it Suze-you need a ride to the hospital to see her?"

"No, no, no." I shook my head and stood back up. "Suzanne was attacked by some kind of animal and I think Ray's on her way to try and find whatever stupid rabid raccoon did the damage!" Well, that certainly paid no credit to my friend's intelligence; but I had no time to come up with something better.

"Wait-so she's in the woods. If she's looking for the thing, she's probably in the woods somewhere. Just let her go...it's idiotic to be out there, but she's probably okay." He had a hand on my shoulder and rubbed it reasurringly with his thumb. "Don't worry. Really."

That plan had failed dramatically. I probably wouldn't even be able to find where she and Nik had gone. What was I doing? "Your right," I apologized. "I'm sorry-I just wasn't thinking." I started to walk off, waving goodbye while trying to think of another way to reach Ray. "Thanks, anyway."

"Hey!" He jogged after me. "If you need a ride somewhere, I can take you." I looked at him, frustrated at my failure, and a little embarrassed that I had solicitated his help in my stupid scheme.

"No that's fine. Really. I think I'm just gonna call her." I took out my phone and dialed her number, Henry watching me carefully, most likely thinking I was missing a few crayons from the Crayola box. Her ringback tone played over static, cutting out and blaring off and on. The line crinkled, and someone picked up but didn't speak.

"Hello? Ray? You there?" It sounded like she was in a car still, driving over bumpy ground. She didn't answer. "Ray?"

"Is she okay?" asked Henry, plainly concerned. I wrinkled my eyebrows, trying to listen closer to the background. Maybe her voice was just lost in the static...?

A whimper. "Ray?" On her side, the phone jostled, the line clearing of fuzziness.

A cool, English voice spoke into the receiver. "Ray isn't available right now. That was a lovely performance tonight, though. _Very _well done."

"Nik? Where is she?"

I thought I heard him chuckle under his breath. "Oh she's fine, trust me. You'll see her tomorrow, I assure you." Something about the way he said it assured me I wouldn't just be seeing her, I'd be seeing her dead body. Henry bristled, stepping closer.

"What _is it_?"

"Til the morrow..." Nik ended the call. From that moment on, all bets were off. If I was crazy, so be it; but I had to get to Ray and if I didn't, something incredibly bad would happen.

"Okay. Listen." I turned to Henry, and for once I didn't feel butterflies, or the need to be liked, or even self-conscious. "I lied." And I told him about Ray's shady new boyfriend, and how I thought he was hurting her, and that he wouldn't let her talk on the phone. How I had concocted the story because he was a guy, and probably wouldn't believe it was serious, and I was a ridiculous high school girl with friend drama. And my neighbor listened.

Henry took in my entire speech, and crossed his arms. When I finished, asking, "Am I crazy? Is this bad or just all in my head?" He said, "I don't like this. Come on." 

* * *

><p>It wasn't at all unusual for Niklaus to bring his girls home. Elijah had become quite used to it over the years, had even joined in at times, in his younger days when he was less cautious and more cruel. Nik simply had a penchant for being more mean than he necessarily thought useful. For that reason, Elijah had made it a habit to live separately from his brother. Close by, to keep an eye on him, but not too near that he heard the screams.<p>

This seemed a little too far, though, with the girl-Ray-and this game that he was playing. Keeping her friend on the phone while he terrorized the redhead. It really wasn't fair; the girl had a teenagers body, but the trusting nature of a child. Her friend had a more developed sense of danger...

Which was why this was a poor decision on Niklaus's part. Not only was he cruel in this instance, but he was also endangering their anonymity in Rosaline. If Nor was smart enough, she would follow. This wouldn't be the first time he and his brother had been beset by mobs; yet it really would put a damper on things.

The sleepy town was out of the way, had a history. Not a bad spot to forget that you were a thousand year old vampire with a thirst for something besides the daily cup of tea. He wasn't particularly ashamed of his bloodlust, not like his other brother, Finn. He just didn't see the need to make everyone feel inferior because of his station as an Original.

Unless they asked for it. The he would show them he possessed certain skills. Benefits, you could say, of immortality.

The younger brother hugged his catch to him, a hand over the girl's mouth to stifle her crying. Niklaus was many things, but patient was not one of them.

"Brother," Elijah began. Not chiding-if you chided Niklaus, you never got anywhere. "You might want to be a little more courteous to a woman about to do you such a favor." He poured himself a drink from the liquor table they kept stocked in the old manse. It was an old property at the edge of town, not even endangered by foreclosure. "She's what keeps you alive, after all. Her youth is more fragile than ours."

Niklaus kept the girl securely in his grasp, but allowed her to breathe more freely, his hand no longer stoppering her mouth. He dragged her to his brother, reached out for a drink that Elijah placed in his hand. "Cheers."

He considered the girl he had seduced in just an afternoon, and smiled. Brushing his liquor- scented mouth to her temple in a travesty of a kiss, he set the glass down and talked to her quietly.

"Shhh, now." He cooed. "Have a care, my love. Don't want to mess your pretty face up like that." His fingers traced the mascara trail of tears on her cheeks, rosy from exertion and fear. The smudged, salty lines dripped down her neck, and he licked one.

As his tongue met her ear, the girl began to cry again, more furiously at the small violation. The older brother felt a sliver of remorse at his complicity to her situation. He crossed the threadbare carpet and tuned her face to his, a hand gentle under her chin. Her eyes dilated beneath his stare. "You are tired. There is nothing to be afraid of, so you can go to sleep, now."

Mercifully, her lids closed, the eyelashes sticky with tears and makeup. Nik let out a groan of disappointment. "E-li-jahhh." His arm relaxed, letting her drop to the ground, somnolent. "They're always _useless _to me after you're through with them. Knocking them senseless, like that. Just kills all the fun."

The brothers stepped apart, Nik returning to the liquor for another drink, Elijah heading towards what used to be a sit-in window. "You make me pity them, Klaus." He watched as headlights searched out the rocky path that remained of the centuries-old horse walk.

The stream of yellow was harsh in the darkness that pervaded the reclaimed landscape. It was equally unforgiving when shined upon the two humans inside the truck that provided it. The young man fought for a moment with his passenger. He slumped into his seat as she pushed open her door and stomped to the house.

Niklaus came up behind his brother, draining his second tumblr. "Looks like the fun isn't quite over yet, Eli." He slapped Elijah's back, swaggering off to throw the sleeping captive over his shoulder. In the process, the kerchief around her breast had come undone, exposing a good bit of her skin. He eyed her for a moment, and tugged the scarf that still hung about her throat, tightening it.

A second later, as Nor knocked on the door, not waiting for it to be opened before coming inside, Klaus was gone up the stairs. The older brother heard her call, bleakly noting the desperation in her tone. "Ray! Ray are you here?" He was going to regret what he had to do, now that she was here. At least she hadn't brought a significant crowd with her. Just the boy.

They would be easy to dispose of, if they saw too much.

Her uneasy footsteps fell nearer, advancing by slow and jagged numbers in her uncertainty of where to look. He felt he should make her search easier, at least.

"Eleanor." He called, barely raising his voice. "I am in here." Perhaps it would be most economical to send her away, having forgotten why she came here. Klaus's game would be ruined, but it would save them some trouble. He'd have to compel the boy, too.

"Is Ray with you?" She asked, breezing into the room-the parlor of the house. He was startled by her appearance. She hadn't changed from her costume of the night; she looked still like a beauty from a bygone era. Remarkable how accurate the town had become in recent years.

Eleanor paid no attention to her demeanor, clothes or otherwise. Her hair had fallen out of its puffy twist, and hung limply over her low neckline. In Rosaline terms, she'd be indecent.

During the car ride, she'd become furious, and only wanted to tell Nik that the police were on their way, that he was a bastard and wouldn't get away with her friend. That he wasn't smart enough to get away. Elijah was collateral damage. He'd helped so he could burn too, metaphorically. Or maybe she'd just burn their crummy house down right now...threaten to set fire to it. "Where is she?"

Elijah moved towards the antique sofa, the only piece of furniture besides the cabinet in the decrepit room. He motioned for her to take a seat. She shook her head, blowing air out of her nose in disbelief. _Like an angry mare_, he thought to himself. "I'm sorry, Eleanor," he said, taking a seat. "Your friend is with my brother right now." He paused, always prudent with his words, but somehow failing to deliver as well as usual while confronted by the livid young woman. "Perhaps you can wait here for her."

Nor walked further into the room, distancing herself from him with the couch. She was an intelligent one. She shrugged, her small mouth frowning in disgust. "Are you going to take turns with her?" She asked flippantly.

Aghast, but impressed that she had so nearly grasped his brother's intentions, he lowered his drink to the floor. "Do you think so poorly of us?"

"Yes," she said unhesitant. He came toward her, and she stepped back. "What? Am I next?" Again, she jumped to conclusions. But maybe that was her nature as a woman, as a human. To perceive the first threat as always sexual. Particularly when such an uncommon pair of men begin to speak to a young girl...

"Please don't mistake me: Nik is very possessive of his friends, in particular your friend-" He stepped closer.

"Ray. Her name is Ray."

He felt the corners of his lips turn up-he knew exactly what she was doing. She was instilling a sense of identity to the lost individual, a tactic that parents often used after the kidnapping of children. He used her friend's full name to convey that he hadn't forgotten. "Rayanne is under my brother's...supervision. I cannot promise that she will not be harmed. But I can assure you she will not remember." He nodded in her direction. "As won't you."

"I won't remember? I'm pretty sure Susanna remembers." She set her mouth, expecting him to fly into a rage, possibly. He was unfamiliar with the name, but could presume that the girl she was referring to was doubtless one of Klaus's other victims. However, he wouldn't have left her with any knowledge of himself.

"I must apologize for Nik. He can get carried away at times. I know, despite this, that Susanna will not be able to recall him." Elijah found himself moving still closer to Nor. It was his nature. To intimidate. To coerce the unwilling into submission, though only as much as needed.

Within a breath of her, he saw that her face-though impassive-incredibly, was streaked with tears. She was crying as she made a case for her friend. He listened for her heartbeat.

Her voice was a whisper. Throaty, finally cracking as he came near enough for her to feel impending danger. "Can't you just let her go?"

He felt pity for her, but not any more than for a doomed human, until she said her next words. "Please." Nor drew in a breath, steadying herself. "She's like my sister."

The oldest Original pulled away. Her heart was rhythmic; not flying, as a frightened animal's would be. Or as a terrified girl's. Yes, she had a great fear of him-he could almost smell it. It must have been taking an unimaginable amount of control for her to appear as she was.

"What are you doing?"

In a flash, the boy was within his grip, stilled by his eyes as he compelled him not to retaliate. Nor was frozen, against the wall where he had left her. Even as he held the boy-so valiant as to come check on her when she hadn't returned-he noticed that she didn't run. "You will go back to the car and wait until your friend comes out to you." Elijah released him.

Henry walked silently out of the room, into the foyer, and closed the door behind him as he walked back out to his car. In one smooth motion, he climbed into the driver's seat, placed his hands on the steering wheel, and waited. Alone again, the Original looked at his guest.

"Your friend Ray is not under my control. I play no part in what Nik has in store for her. You will have to ask him yourself. But I do not send you to her with any hope." He led Nor as they ascended the rickety staircase in the hall.

"You come to play, love?" Nik's voice rang through the upstairs hallway, coming from a room at the middle of the corridor. "Come on. Ray and I have been expecting you. Why don't you lead her in, Brother?"

Elijah hestitated at the door, reluctant to let her descend farther into the game. "Nik is rather unpredictable," he chose to remind her, washing his hands of the matter. Brave or not, loving or not, she was only human. A mere blip in the span of a thousand years. In a tenth of what had already elapsed of his lifetime, she would be dead regardless. There was no reason to stop her now.


	6. Vampires

_**Author's Note:**_ Please review if you don't find this completely awful. I really do want to hear what you think. If something doesn't work, in your opinion, let me know.

* * *

><p>"Henry?" I meant to speak, but as I said his name, I knew it wasn't audible.<p>

He had helped me find this place—a hangout for the older set at school that I didn't know about. As soon as I'd said "sound of gravel," he'd known.

But now, he walked from the room without objection, and a minute later, I heard the slamming of his car door. I hadn't been sure what I was dealing with before then. A pair of sociopaths, I thought. Maybe some drug dealers without consciences that enjoyed torturing girls whenever they passed through a new town.

Susanna's neck had definitely been punctured by something-I assumed it could have been a syringe, carelessly stabbed into her muscle. Or a kind of knife...a poker, really. Cruel, but efficient I guess, if you want to kill someone without an obvious wound. Maybe it was Nik's signature.

The fact that Elijah hadn't tried to deny the violence had contributed to my idea about the brothers. At least I wasn't crazy. Ray was just in a lot of trouble.

But what had he done? Some kind of mind control getting Henry to leave the house. I couldn't wrap my mind around it. Elijah…had just held my neighbor by the neck, said one sentence to him, and convinced him to abandon me. Not only that, but he had done it in less than a second. It was as if he knew before Henry came to the door what he was about to do.

Violence was one thing. Kidnapping was another. But what I had just seen: that was another matter entirely. I realized in one breath that I was out of my depth, and I was out of time. I had severely miscalculated something about the situation.

What was he?

What was his brother?

I had been prepared to get seriously hurt by coming here. I had expected Nik to be crazy. But for some reason, I had assumed that the older brother—the one I had talked to about literature, the one that seemed to have so much self-control—wouldn't be an issue. Would perhaps feel bad enough about his brother's behavior to let me collect Ray and get the hell out of there.

Elijah walked towards me again, resuming his spot an arm's length away. He considered me; the same way he had considered Ray when she and Nik were together at the rehearsal. No smile this time. "Your friend Ray is not under my control. I play no part in what Nik has in store for her. You will have to ask him yourself. But I do not send you to her with any hope."

_Under his control?_ I thought. _What he has in store for her? _They were psychopaths. The air that Nik carried about him, as if he had the authority to do whatever he pleased with whomever he wanted…it came back to me. Elijah's expensive tastes, aloof demeanor. Nik and Elijah behaved like they were gods. And from what had transpired moments ago, they very well could have been.

He held a hand out to me, directing my movement to the staircase in the hallway. Even leading me to my death, he was cordial.

I knew I was crying. I was past plain terror, though. What I felt at that time was resignation. To whatever fate I'd gotten myself into when I stepped through the door. Maybe even when Ray and I had walked into the Darjeeling a day ago. I felt the peace that comes with knowing it's almost over.

The only thing that I had in my control was how soon it happened, and how I reacted. I couldn't read Elijah's expression when he'd assured me I wouldn't remember what would transpire…I had recognized the discomfort he'd betrayed when I asked if I was next. The way he held himself further back from me, made sure not to startle me since.

He was insulted. I'd insinuated that he'd take a liberty with me that was apparently beyond his morals. There was a possibility I could use that.

When the older brother paused at the entrance to the room where Ray was being held—as Nik teased me, calling me to him—I thought I saw a look of reluctance in Elijah's dark eyes. "Nik is rather unpredictable," he said to me.

It struck me as an understatement. And at that moment, when I should have been trembling with fear at the death that awaited me, that awaited my friend, I was angry. "Is that all you have to give me?" I asked. He looked surprised that I had spoken, glanced at the door as if his brother could hear my low voice from inside the bedroom.

"I'm about to die, or watch my friend die—a person I've grown up with, that I've loved—and all you can say is that your bastard of a brother is _unpredictable_?" I laughed out what was left of the air in my lungs. "Thanks."

I had a feeling that he was used to cleaning up his brother's messes, or tolerating his antics, however gruesome they were.

I thought of Ray, and of all the times I had picked up the pieces after she'd put herself through the emotional ringer with some guy. This was just another one of those times.

Or at least it would have been, had I not pushed into the bedroom and seen my friend, two trails of blood streaming down her throat and onto the floor where they rapidly dripped.

That's when I lost it.

I made to launch across the floor, stayed by a cool touch on my shoulder that should have only hindered me, but unsteadied me enough that I collapsed beneath the weight, the tears I'd been holding in flowing freely at last. "Ray, no!" I couldn't rise—it occurred to me that the older brother was holding me back.

Nik held Ray with one arm, a floppy human-sized doll in the tall blond's grip. In an unreal heartbeat, I connected the red smear around his mouth with that on my friend's neck. The crazy asshole had bitten her; but not only that…he looked…different. My tears clouded my vision as I tried to piece together the shadow that had come over his face, the black irises that replaced his normal icy blue. And the delicate, inch-long fangs that hung gracefully over his tongue and teeth.

"Brother," he said, smiling above the grotesque scene. He licked the blood from his teeth and asked us to join him. "You've just made it in time for cocktail hour."

The word "vampire" rang through my head, bouncing foggily against the things that should have pointed me to that conclusion. Images of puncture marks. Brainwashed neighbor boys. Syringes? Who was I kidding?

* * *

><p>"Klaus," Elijah said, stepping in front of the weeping girl. Without his hold on her, she sank even farther onto the floor, a puddle of the brave young woman he'd confronted downstairs. "This is getting tiresome. She's called the authorities; I don't feel the desire to compel more hapless policemen than we have to, tonight."<p>

His brother sighed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Letting the girl slide to the floor he approached the window. "And the boy," he noted. "Why do they always have to be so gallant?"

Elijah listened as Nor wept gently behind him, steadying her breath, trying to gather herself together as she crawled toward her friend. She had recovered remarkably quickly from her outburst. Klaus turned to survey the scene, a hand massaging his jaw in thought. The girl cleaned the blood from her friend's neck, attempting to see the damage. The crimsoned section of her dress hung limply in her hand when the bite marks were at last cleanly delineated.

In a blink, Klaus was beside the two girls, crouching for a better look. Nor held Ray close to her chest, laid across her knees. "I'm afraid we're going to have to draw our little party to a close, loves." Nor avoided his eyes, jerking her head to the side. She took a breath.

"Take me instead."

"What's that?" Klaus seemed to be genuinely surprised by the offer. Nor repeated herself, crying softly again, though more successfully restrained.

"Take me instead."

Elijah stepped cautiously forward, perturbed by the stupid, yet beautifully humanness of the offer. She would be disappointed, he knew.

She looked up, though still not at Klaus. Her eyes came to rest near the older brother's feet. "She's still alive," Nor said, angry, it seemed, that further explanation was needed. "If you want a girl then take _me. _Just…make her forget."

Nor let her eyes meet Elijah's for a moment. "You can do that, I saw it. She's…she's not that bloody. Just cover her neck, and tell her to go into the trees." She had to stop, finding words and air to continue. She took another shaking breath. "They can find her later, wandering in the woods. They'll think she had a…a nervous breakdown or something. And then take me." The girl hugged her friend to her chest, pulling her perhaps subconsciously away from the predator in front of them.

Recovering himself, Klaus chuckled. "My dear," he addressed Nor. "We aren't exactly looking for a sacrifice. _I _am not looking for just any girl. I'm actually quite fond of your friend here." He smiled. "She's been a real pleasure to have around."

"Klaus." His brother's stern voice echoed suddenly in the small chamber. "Do not torture her." Elijah walked to the bloody pile of cloth Nor and Ray were in by the bed. "My patience has reached its end. This petty psychological game holds no purpose but to prolong their terror."

The blond brother rolled his eyes, but rose from his crouch. "That's the point," he said, as if Elijah had entirely missed it. "But you're right, I suppose. There's little fun to be gotten from them now, petrified as they are." He waved his hand nonchalantly, setting the matter aside. "I'll take care of them; you don't have to worry, Brother."

The siblings moved in step towards the girls. "No need, Klaus. I will take it from here," Elijah said good-naturedly. "However, you might like to have a chat with the policemen that have come to investigate." The sound of sirens became evident within seconds of his words. Klaus sighed once again, affecting a sarcastic air.

"Law enforcement: so quick to suspect out-of-towners…" He left the room.

* * *

><p>The relief that I felt as Nik exited the room was overwhelming. My shoulders slumped, and I began to hyperventilate again, unhampered by the defensive stance I took for my friend's sake. I almost didn't care what Elijah did to us, because whatever it was, I knew, would be less cruel than whatever his brother had been aiming at. "Miss Donne. Eleanor. I will need you to get up, please."<p>

I found his cool, brown eyes calmly watching me. "Ray," I said. "I—"

"You may leave her." He paused, knowing maybe that I would be more than hesitant to do just that. "We will get her in a moment," he assured me. "I will see to her."

I was so tired, exhausted from the ordeal that must have lasted little more than twenty minutes. So I stood without thinking, my shaking legs making it necessary for the older brother to hold me up with a firm grip on my waist and shoulder.

Deadly serious, he roamed my face with an all-considering gaze that I imagined looked not just at every movement of my features, but into my mind, through my eyes. I think that some part of me knew, even then, that he was listening to my heartbeat, the blood pulsing through my veins along with adrenaline. He said my name—in the same crisp, smooth voice of his that he had maintained throughout the evening, dealing with an incensed teenager or a murderous brother.

"If I let you leave, are you able to take care of your clothing, and that of your friend?" My hearing was indistinct, going in and out as I began to slip into delayed shock. Three cold fingers kept my face trained on his, tilting my chin. I had to blink to bring my concentration to his words. He clarified, noting my fogginess. "There will blood on all of your clothing; if you can't get rid of it before you're seen, it will be extremely suspicious, and you cannot leave it here."

Although the sentence itself wasn't altogether clear in my mind, I understood the gist of it. We needed to clean up before anyone caught us and traced it back to Nik and Elijah. I nodded. "Mm-hm."

His eyes drifted to Ray, lying unnaturally still on the floor. Her neck leaked two weak trails of blood onto the carpet. "Sit," he commanded me, and I was unable to refuse. I don't know if it was merely his insistence or the same power of suggestion that I'd seen him work with Henry. I watched from the edge of the bed as he knelt by my friend, and unhesitant, patiently bit the wrist of his right hand, and held it to her mouth.

Horrified, but oddly resigned to whatever he was doing—he wouldn't make sure I could dispose of our clothes if he wasn't going to let us leave—I waited while my friend slowly came back to consciousness by drinking the blood of a man we had met a day and a half ago. Eventually, swallowing hard, I couldn't restrain myself, and I asked what he was doing.

"You saw my brother had drunk from your friend…have you never wondered what would happen were the reverse to take place?"

"I haven't had the chance to consider before."

He let her head rest on the floor, Ray's breathing finally normal again, her lips stained red. Taking a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his jacket, he cleaned his wrist. The pale skin showed no sign of what should have been fresh puncture wounds. "It will help her heal." He said. "She'll show no marks of what Niklaus has done to her. Well, besides her costume, which I am trusting to you."

Reflexively, I glanced at Ray, and below her curly red hair I indeed saw no sign of the two ugly holes Nik had left in her otherwise graceful throat. Her neckline was still red, though, where her blood had dripped while the wounds were open. I looked at myself, recalling my own clothing as if I had awakened from a dream. My hem was bloodied from when I had wiped at her neck. I looked up at Elijah, forgetting to avert my gaze in case he wanted to brainwash me as well as Ray.

I heard the slamming of car doors, and walked to the window of the bedroom, unhindered by my host. Two police cruisers backed slowly out of the drive and, lights unflashing, drove off into the night. Elijah approached me from behind, staying a distance away. I looked down at Henry's truck, where he sat, still under those unearthly orders to wait for me, and he spoke.

"You got a call from Ray, and left to pick her up at a party that had gotten out of hand." He said. "Before you reached her, she had tried to help a drunken boy who had cut himself on a broken bottle." He paused, his eyes returning to Ray for a moment. "He tried to steady himself by grasping her collar. He was…unsuccessful."

He didn't say this to me as a command. I could tell that it was only a suggestion for a story I would evidently, obviously require.

"Let us get her home." Without further comment, he gathered Ray in his arms, raising her as if she weighed less than a bag of flour from the grocery store. Inclining his head, he pointed me to the stairs. Ray began to squirm as we descended, and reaching the bottom step, he gave her to me, setting her gently on her feet. I wrapped her arm around my neck, and got a firm hold of her around the waist, a mockery of the way we sometimes would walk giggling through town.

The door outside had been left open, by an obliging Nik, I thought angrily. I walked my friend to the truck, as Elijah took the opportunity to advance ahead of us, and speak softly to Henry. When Elijah retreated from the window, my neighbor came to life once again, hurrying to open the passenger side door. He grumbled something about "stupid high school parties" and "drunk idiots" when he helped me place Ray between the two of us.

I knew, somehow, that she wouldn't remember anything that happened that night. We pulled out of the rocky driveway, and it was like she really had been at a party that had gotten out of control. Her parents would think she was drunk, I suspected. Just before our tail lights spun around to illuminate the road back home, I saw Elijah, standing stiffly at the doorstep of the crumbling mansion.

And I saw Nik, watching from the window of the same bedroom where he had tried to bleed my friend dry. He must have seen me looking, because in less than a second, he was gone—leaving me unsure if I had really caught him. Just as he disappeared, his brother stayed plainly in sight, raising his chin to see as we drove further away from the house.


End file.
